


More a Wolf than a Rose

by therebaeka



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, F/F, F/M, Gen, Introspection, Mention of Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21521617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therebaeka/pseuds/therebaeka
Summary: The North Remembers but they cannot remember a story they do not know about.All the tales told are about Lyanna the Winter Rose.They never hear the story of Lyanna the Wolf.
Relationships: Elia Martell/Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. loss (of who she was)

History is written by the victors. The reality of those that live in the present is molded into whatever the victors wish it to be so. Some names are sullied. Some are venerated. Some are forgotten.

They tell stories of the She-Wolf - in the North and the South.

They tell of her beauty.

They remember the colour blue of the winter roses she was crowned.

They whisper of poor Lyanna Stark who was lusted after by a prince as mad as his father. They say she was kidnapped and raped.

All the tales told are about Lyanna the Winter Rose.

They never hear the story of Lyanna the Wolf.

No one will tell tales of how the She-Wolf hunts with ferocity. No one will know of her prowess with the sword that she learned side-by-side her brothers. There will be none who will remember Lyanna Stark’s laugh - the full-bellied sound, the hiccup-like sound, and the ones she snorts like a boar.

History is written by the victors. The truth of the past is oftentimes forgotten as the victors rewrite a person to be.

No one alive can now tell her son about the woman that his mother was. They cannot tell her of her defiance or her ferocity. He will not know how fiercely his mother loves. Her son will never know that he is a child born of a love between three people.

No one alive will remember that Lyanna Stark is more than the woman that caused the fall of the Targaryen Dynasty.

No one will be able to remember that Lyanna Stark fell hard and fast for Elia Martell just as she had with Rhaegar Targaryen.

No one remembers the story of the She-Wolf.

There is a saying that burns in her soul that goes, “The North Remembers”.

But it does not remember the truth - that Lyanna Stark hated the Baratheon man her brother brought back. She did not like his licentiousness nor his utter lack of respect for her person.

The North Remembers what happened at Harrenhal. They will remember the crowning of their She-Wolf as the Queen of Love and Beauty but they will not hear the stories of how she donned an armor and fought in the tourney.

They will rage wars that their own was kidnapped, not knowing that she had ran away with a man and woman she loves.

They will remember her eyes, but they will never see the shape or color in her son’s eyes no matter how similar they may be. Or, perhaps, they do see it but they remain mum about it.

They will whisper that it is a coincidence. They will say that the blood of the wolf runs strong in her son. But they will never come to the conclusion that her son is borne from the She-Wolf and the Silver Prince.

The North Remembers but they cannot remember a story they do not know about.


	2. young (girl taken so soon)

Lyanna Stark is 14 and she’s too old to run around with her brothers as if they are a pack of wild wolves. At the same time, she’s too young to properly wield a sword by her own hands - not just running behind her father’s back.

Still, though young, she listens and learns.

She hears whispers about her father’s Southron ambition and how it was dishonorable to foster a Stark in the South and to sell two Stark to Andals. Part of her wants to defend her father but another part rages and agrees.

She has no love for the South.

Too hot.

Too pedantic.

She is a Wolf of the North and she will not be neutered to be tamed for the South, she whispers softly when she curls next to Benjen.

She is a young girl - young in some eyes but old in others’ perspective - when her father sells her to be a bride of a Southron man.

Lyanna Stark is a girl of 15. She is still young, but she has grown both in character and in her physical body from when she was 14. She no longer runs with mud on her skirts but she continues to ride her horse in the forest. She no longer starts fights against the young men of Winterfell but she continues to train the way of the sword with Benjen.

She has grown and matured but some things remain the same.

She is still the She-Wolf of the North.

She has heard whispers and comments about what a lovely flower she is. She bares her teeth and thanks them. Let them never forget that she is a wolf.

Lyanna Stark is 16 and she is still young, but everyone says she is a woman grown now. She has flowered beautifully and is ready to pick by a husband.

Specifically, according to her brother, Robert Baratheon.

That disgusting licentious lecher.

She would rather throw herself off of a tower.

But, it doesn’t come to that.

Lyanna Stark is 16 when a handsome prince with kind eyes and a silver tongue, and a beautiful princess with a gentle voice and soft hands give her a choice: “Come with us”.

So, without a thought of anything else, the young wolf runs away with a dragon and a snake.

Lyanna Stark is 16 and she’s married.

Not to the man forced upon her, but to people she chose.

Beautiful Elia Martell-Targaryen and Sweet Rhaegar Targaryen.

She looks at them and thinks, this must be love. She dances with them and falls head over heels all over again. She lies with them and she is at peace in between their bodies.

She is younger than they are, but they do not look down at her. They act like they are equals, though they are not.

Lyanna Stark is a young wife of a prince and princess and she does not feel shackled or tamed. She is still the She-Wolf of the North, only with a Dragon for a husband and a Snake for a wife.

She is most happy.

Lyanna Stark is 17 when the Kingdoms fall into war, too young for all of the horrors. She has heard from the Mistress of Whispers that the rebels fight to get her back but she doesn’t want to go back.

She is happy as she is.

She is happy with her wife and husband and children.

Happiness doesn’t last and life is cruel, Lyanna Stark was young when she learned that lesson the hard way.

Lyanna Stark is young and she is dying.

The Kingsguard whispers that her husband has fallen and her wife and children dead. She has no more reason to live, except for the baby in her belly that demands to be born.

She screams.

She pushes.

She is being ripped apart.

But she prays to the Old and New Gods. She prays that if death is her punishment for running away from duty and falling for freedom, then let Stranger take her and not her child.

Her sweet child, who isn’t even born yet but whom she will die for.

_Ah_ , she learns as she chokes on her bile and screams and pushes, _this is what it means to be a mother. To love a person you’ve never laid eyes on. To be willing to die for them._

Lyanna Stark is young in body but not in spirit when she decides that her life is nothing compared to the child she is birthing.

Lyanna Stark barely lived two decades.

She was so young, taken too soon.

She barely lived the life she was supposed to live.

The living will speak of her - of her beauty, of her ‘life’, and her descent.

They will whisper of her youth and her naivety.

They will speak of how young she was and how she was taken against her will, _I always knew the Silver Prince is just as mad as his father - a monster._

No one will be there to tell of the many lessons Lyanna Stark had learned.

No one will be able to know that though she was young, Lyanna Stark had led a wonderful life. Though her time with her beloveds was short; though she had only held her wonderful child for a while before she took her last breath; though regret burned her being, she had made a choice and she has learned that she needs to take accountability for her actions.

But oh, how awful it was, to be free and love but have it taken away from you by people who claim they want to save you by putting you in chains.

Lyanna and Elia and Rhaegar.

They died too young.


	3. admiration (in her eyes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L-Y-(A)-N-N-A

There was a clear admiration in Lyanna Stark's eyes as she watches the beautiful Princess of Dorne in the royal box. Her eyes follow her facial expression and her hands as she claps. She could only sigh wistfully as she watches the Princess speak with another beautiful Dornish woman (not quite as pretty as Princess Elia, though).

She wishes that she can hear the Princess’s voice speak directly at her.

It is not the way a woman ought to think about another, she can hear Southrons sneer. Improper northern barbarian, she hears them.

But oh, she is of the North. She is her mother's little Wildling.

Wildlings have no such laws that a woman cannot look at another woman with such naked adoration, she remembers stories told by a Wildling who fled South.

Ah. What beauty, the Princess of Dorne is.

She strikes out with her dark complexion and red lips amongst the sea of Targaryen albino.

She looks like a beautiful fairy surrounded by snow.

Beautiful.

Enchanting.

Lyanna wants to don her armor and join in the melee under her banner. She wants to win and crown the woman the Queen of Love and Beauty, for none in all the seven kingdoms can compare to her.

And it’s not just that the Princess is beautiful, her mind whispers. She is kind and gentle, the picturesque image of a Southron lady, but hiding the ferocity of a Northern woman.

Had Lyanna been a man, she would’ve asked for her hand.

But, oh, Princess Elia is a married woman.

Not just married to anyone, but to the Heir of the Iron Throne.

How could Lyanna ever compare? She was just the wild and freedom-craving daughter of the Wolf Pack of the North. The Prince, though she loathes to admit it, _fits perfectly_ with Princess Elia.

The two of them together fit like any of the so-called good Southron stories. The Charming Princess and the Dashing Prince.

Except, it’s the Dashing Princess and the Charming Prince.

Prince Rhaegar is the opposite of what a Northern man ought to be. He was soft. He prefers the company of books over men. He picks up a harp rather than a sword. He sings tales of forlorn lovers rather than victorious warriors.

He is like ice - beautiful but easy to brake upon impact.

A part of her wants to challenge him to a sword fight while another part of him growls that she wants to nest him beside Princess Elia and protect them.

But, as her eyes falls from Princess Elia in the Royal Box down to the field where the Prince stands tall and firm with a sword in hand, she knows that she has to reassess him. He may be ice, but he is not the thin ice that they break at the North. He’s the Ice that her father holds, beautiful and deadly in its own way.

Lyanna Stark sat on her seat with her family at the Tourney at Harrenhall and alternately watched with adoration the beautiful Princess Elia cheer for the knights from the box above and the sensitive Prince Rhaegar wielding a sword with grace down the field below.

What a beautiful couple they were.

The kind of people she could only admire from afar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone throw me ideas for the two Ns haha.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know please don't hate uhu


End file.
